


Le Chat Noir Rôde la Nuit

by Snugglebuttkitten



Series: AU August [8]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged Up Because What Else Do I Write, Bridgette and Marinette are cousins, Felix and Adrien are brothers, Gen, Girls with Guns, Luka is Marinette's ex husband, Mafia AU, Mild (mostly) Violence, Organized Crime, Original Character(s), Orphan Marinette, Parisian Mafia, Rated M for Mild Violence and Some Potential Nudity, Seriously it's a Thing With Me, WHAT THE FUCK EVEN ARE TAGS!?!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 00:11:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15740142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snugglebuttkitten/pseuds/Snugglebuttkitten
Summary: When Marinette Dupain-Cheng was four years old, she watched her parents' brutal murder at the hands of Papillon, the most dangerous Mob Boss to ever taint European soil. Adopted by her aunt and uncle, the child found herself thrust into a world of organized crime, where murder and thievery were as natural as breathing.Adrien Agreste has always lived and breathed crime. By day, he is Paris' resident golden boy, a supermodel and the most eligible bachelor in all of Paris. But night, he is Le Chat Noir, Papillon's most lethal assassin.When word arrives that the Cheng family's Lucky Ladybug is after his head, it seems only natural that Papillon sends his most ruthless and heartless assassin to take her out before she can take him out. But when Chat Noir meets the young woman, the last thing he can imagine is killing her. Besides, there's no way that this sweet, unassuming girl is the trained assassin his father thinks she is. Betraying his father, Chat Noir instead begins to do everything in his power to protect Marinette from the people he grew up and trained with, unaware that he could very well be signing his own father's death warrant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I lied. This series will have (at least) one more AU in it. If anyone has seen the new movie Crazy Rich Asians, I just got back from seeing it and it. Was. AMAZING. 12/10 would recommend. So, my next (and hopefully FINAL) AU for this series will be based on the movie and titled 'Crazy Rich Parisians'. But once again, we will see. I have a boundless amount of ideas and this is as good a place as any to put them, to be honest. This one will cover Days 22 (Crime), 3 (Single Parent), and 4 (Enemies). Like I said, #Overused. But I'm super excited to try an Organized Crime AU.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, this will be 90% MariChat because I am 100% MariChat trash. Also very minor Lukanette? They are in their late 20s for this AU. Marinette is 27, Adrien is 29.

**_25 Years Ago_ **

Marinette Dupain-Cheng awoke with a start, heart hammering in her chest. The little girl peered around the room, groggy with sleep, the only light coming from the Ladybug shaped night light plugged into one corner of the room. The room was a mass of shifting shadows, urged on by the pounding rain just beyond her bedroom windows, and she felt a flutter of unease settle in her gut. At four years old, Marinette had long since gotten over her fear of the dark. She was a big girl, after all, and she didn’t want to be the only child in her class still afraid of the dark when she entered kindergarten come fall. How embarrassing would that be? She would be forced to turn down Sleepover Invites, her future friends would think she didn’t like them, and she would spend the rest of her life alone and friendless! No, Marinette definitely was not afraid of the dark. Thunder, on the other hand? Well, it was okay to be afraid of thunder. It was loud and scary after all and as thunder crashed outside, she immediately dove under her blanket with a squeak of fear.

 _It’s just thunder. Thunder can’t hurt you_ , the pigtailed child chanted silently as she huddled beneath her bright pink and white Hello Kitty comfortable. _Maman says thunder is just noise. Really loud, scary noise… but noise all the same and noise can’t hurt you._ The words helped a bit, and gathering her nerves the little girl lowered the blanket until only the tops of her cerulean eyes were visible. Outside, the rain continued to pound but the sky was otherwise silent. Licking her lips nervously, Marinette lowered the blanket completely until it lay across her lap, slender fingers twisting up the brightly colored fabric. She had to take several deep, fortifying breaths the way her Papa had taught her before she was brave enough to scoot to the edge of the bed and drop to the floor. She paused, now standing up straight, but when no more thunder came to frighten her back under her blankets she edged her way down the ladder of her loft bed and felt her way to the trap door in her floor.

The trapdoor creaked as she lifted it, sounding far louder in the quiet room than it actually was, and she winced waiting for her parents to awaken. They didn’t like it when she got out of bed in the middle of the night because sometimes they had guests. They didn’t like it when she came down when they had guests. When no one called out to her, Marinette descended the stairs the rest of the way and padded into the darkened kitchen. She had to struggle to climb onto the counter so she could reach the cupboard that held the cups. Finding one of her sippy cups, she hopped back down and went to fill it with water at the sink. She had just taken the first sip when someone pounded loudly on the front door of their apartment. The child jolted so badly she spilled her water all over the kitchen floor. She didn’t have the chance to clean it up, however, because a light flicked on upstairs.

In a moment of panic, Marinette set the cup on the counter and dove into the nearest hiding place she could think of, which happened to be the kitchen pantry. Squeezing into the space beneath the bottom shelf among bags of flour, rice, and noodles, Marinette wrapped her arms around her knees and waited. She had left the door cracked a bit, enough to peek out without being seen (hopefully). Footsteps moved rapidly down the stairs, followed by the harsh whispers that her parents were arguing while trying desperately not to wake her. The kitchen light flicked on, casting a sliver of golden light over the child’s face as she peeked out of her hiding place. She couldn’t see her parents yet, but she could hear them. Their whispers were harsh and filled with what the four-year-old could only describe as fear.

“Did you check on Marinette?” Her mother, Sabine Cheng, demanded of her father. Marinette froze, fearful for a moment that they would go check on her now and discover her no longer in her bed.

“No, but she’ll be fine. I’ve already called your family and they’re on their way. If anything happens, they’ll get her out safe and sound,” her father, Tom Dupain, assured in an equally quiet whisper.

“I’ll go let him in then. God help us all if we can’t stall him until they get here,” Sabine breathed quietly. Moments later, the sound of her footsteps could be heard echoing against the floorboards as she made her way to the front door. The front door opened with a bang that caused Marinette to flinch violently. Thankfully, the sound of the door coupled with the booming voices echoing down the hallway drowned out the sound of rattling containers as she knocked against them. The child forced herself to remain still as the voices drew nearer, despite how the booming tone made her quake with fear.

“I’m not happy with you, Chengs. Not happy at all,” the voice, which was undoubtedly male, was saying as he entering the main living area of their small two bedroom apartment. “I gave you time to get my money, and you failed. I don’t take kindly to failure.”

The voice sounded right above the kitchen island now, and peeking out Marinette could just make out the speaker of the voice. He was a tall, thin man dressed sharply in a suit with a red and white cravat tied about his throat. His white blonde hair was slicked back, graying at the edges, and his blue eyes were sharp between thick, black-rimmed glasses. On his hip, the man held a young boy who looked to be a few years older than Marinette. Six or seven at most, the boy had blonde hair and vivid green eyes that shifted everywhere, taking in the apartment almost boredly as he ignored the man’s booming voice.

“Monsieur Agreste, please. I told you, you’d get your money,” Sabine pleaded from somewhere out of the little girl’s field of vision.

“Give us until the end of the month. You have a son. Surely you understand what it’s like, parenting a young child,” Tom added, desperation tinging his tone. The man glanced down at the boy in his arms momentarily before setting him down on the granite countertops of their kitchen island. In her hidey hole, the little girl frowned in disapproval. Not even she was allowed to sit on the counters except on very special occasions. She couldn’t imagine her parents were thrilled to have the little boy sitting up there. Still, they didn’t say anything.

“That’s right, you have the little girl. What was her name…? Marinette?” The man mused and his voice lowered, tone becoming thoughtful as he tapped his chin. “She’s how old, now? Three, four years old. Has she been drafted yet?”

“Of course not,” Sabine responded indignantly. “And if we have anything to say about the matter, she never will be. This world isn’t meant for children.”

“My Adrien has been drafted since he was only two. He is a prodigy in his field,” the man boasted, though there was no genuine pride in his voice. He sounded more matter-of-fact than anything else, as he was talking about a machine, a material object that he possessed. Marinette’s parents had never spoken about her in that way and she decided she wouldn’t like it if she did. The boy, however, seemed unconcerned with the callous way his father spoke to him. His feet kicked idly over the edge of the counter, occasionally knocking against the wooden cabinets beneath, his gaze moving everywhere but the people in the room.

“We are trying to get out of this business, M. Agreste. You know that. We want to raise our daughter away from this world and if you just give us a little more time, our debt will be paid. We can take our daughter and disappear. The Cheng Family will leave you alone,” Sabine tried to persuade, but the man acted as if he hadn’t even heard her.

“It’s a pity, truly, that you want to take the child away from our world. Such a young mind could easily be sculpted into a killing machine with the right incentive. She could have been the Cheng Family’s most lethal asset,” he said with a sigh. From the edge in her father’s voice when she spoke, Marinette could tell he was growing angry.

“She isn’t an asset, she’s our daughter. Have you no care for the safety of your son!?” The man snapped angrily. Immediately the stranger’s eyes snapped to his and his face was dark with anger.

“My son will be the deadliest Assassin Europe has ever seen. He will be untouchable by the time I am done with him,” he snapped. Marinette shrank back as his voice rose once more, echoing in the small living area of their apartment. Above her, a can rocked back and forth before clattering to the floor. The child froze, eyes locked on the little opening as silence fell outside of the pantry door. Her breathing was quick and shallow, fear pushing her to reveal herself and throw herself behind the folds of her mother’s nightgown. It would be safe there. Common sense ruled out, however, and she remained silent as footsteps approached the pantry. The door was cracked open and a pair of hollow green eyes bore into her blue ones. For a moment, the two children were silent as they stared each other down. The girl shrank back, shooting a panicked look over the boy’s shoulder just waiting for the terrible man to come and yank her from her hiding spot. The boy followed her gaze before turning back to her, his face seemingly devoid of all emotion.

“Well? What is it, Adrien?” The man snapped, still safely on the other side of the kitchen island. The boy stared at her for another long moment before turning away and closing the door behind him. Though his voice was muffled through the now closed door, she could still just make out his monotonous words as he responded.

“Nothing, father. Just a can that toppled over.”

“Very good, son. Now, onto the matter of our transaction,” the scary man said, apparently taking his son at his word and dismissing the odd sounds from the pantry. Desperate to see what was going on, Marinette shimmied out from under the shelf just enough to raise up on her knees so she could reach the knob. The door was mercifully silent as she edged it open and peered through the crack. This time, her parents were clearly visible, having entered the kitchen when the boy had. They stood close to the pantry, and when the door cracked open Sabine’s gaze immediately found that of her daughter’s. There was a clear warning there, a subtle shift in her expression that told Marinette that she was to stay put and not make a sound. She had been through this drill countless times.

“Please, Monsieur,” Tom began but was quickly cut off.

“Silence! You will not speak unless I give you permission, is that understood?” The man thundered, and it was all the little girl could do to remain deathly still. Wisely, her parents didn’t say anything else. “Good. Now, I have been generous with you Cheng's. For too long, I have sat idly by and allowed you to do as you please. You seem to have forgotten that Paris belongs to _me_ and me alone. It is high time I remind you of your place.”

“Sir, please, if you’ll just-”

“I said _silence_! I will make an example of you, and then I will take your daughter and mold her into the perfect Warrior, and watch as she destroys the very people who raised her,” he said, his eyes alight with a grim sort of satisfaction. Tom and Sabine began to babble over one another, begging them to spare their daughter the life they had no choice but to lead, but their pleas only fell on deaf ears. Marinette had only seen a gun once before in real life when her mother had shown her where they keep the spare when she taught her how to use it in self-defense. Then, it had seemed scary but relatively harmless in her mother’s confident grip. Now, as the deep gray metal flashed in the low light of the kitchen, it was downright terrifying. Thunder crashed outside at the same time the gun went off and it was all the little girl could do to clap her hands over her mouth and keep from crying out. There was another bang, another flash, and then it was over.

Watching in horror from her hiding spot, Marinette watched as the man stepped gingerly over the two prone bodies of her parents, while blood began to pool over the pristine white of the kitchen tiles. “Adrien, stay here while I fetch the girl,” the man ordered, disappearing up the steps in the direction of her bedroom. Moments later, the dead-eyed little boy was pulling open the door and staring her dead in the eyes. Marinette was frozen in terror, unsure whether the boy would give her away now that her parents were dead, but he just stepped back and gestured for her to come out of the closet. When she failed to move, annoyance flashed across his face and he reached for her, his grip on her wrist bone-crushing. He dragged her from the closet and then shoved her towards the front door, lip curling in disgust.

“Go on, get out of here before he comes back,” he ordered. Marinette blinked at him before her eyes trailed to her parents.

“But what about-” She began, but the boy quickly waved her concerns away.

“They’re dead. Get over it. Unless you wanna end up the same way, I would get out while you still can. Find your family,” he ordered, his tone uncaring and harsh.

“Why are you helping me?” The girl finally asked, tearing her gaze away from her dead parents and willing away the burn of tears that pricked at her eyes.

“Cuz I didn’t have a choice and you do,” the boy said simply, and briefly a pained expression crossed his face. As quickly as it had come, it was gone and he was back to being as emotionless as stone.

“Now go on, get. Before I change my mind,” the boy snarled. Marinette cast one last look at her parents before she turned on her heels and fled. The front door banged shut behind her, undoubtedly giving her away to the boy’s father, but she didn’t care. She stumbled down the steep staircase and shoved through the door at the bottom, nearly falling through it and out into the chilling rain.

“Marinette?” A woman asked, sliding from a car with concern in her eyes. The woman was petite and slender, with the same blue-black hair and gray-blue eyes as her mother. But her face was older, weathered with age and the harsh elements she frequently faced.

“Auntie Sybil!” The child cried, flinging herself into the woman’s arms and breaking down into sobs.

“Marinette. Marinette, where are your parents?” Sybil demanded, wrapping her in a tight hug as the child sobbed and clung to her neck.

“Th-th-they’re d-d-dead, Auntie Sybil! Th-the b-bad man k-k-killed them,” the child said through chattering teeth. Above, there was a shout that drew the pair’s gaze to the rooftop balcony just in time to see the gun go off. Sybil fell backward, the bullet missing them by mere inches, before diving into the black stretch limo parked and waiting at the curb.

“Step on it, Fu,” she ordered without preamble, and the petite Chinese man nodded and slammed the car into drive. The limo roared away from the curb and shot off down the rain-slicked roads of Paris, carrying the child far away from the place she had once called home.

  
  


**_Present Day_ **

The world became a mass of shifting green and black shadows when Lucky Ladybug donned her red and black spotted mask. The high-tech mask seemed to mold her skin until it practically became a part of her, allowing her the night vision that this particular job called for. The Italian alleyways were dark, the few light fixtures long since burned out. The mask provided by their tech wiz Max would allow her to stalk her prey without being seen. And that’s exactly what she did. Like a shadow, the woman slipped over the rooftops with an effortless grace, her eyes searching and scanning for her target. There. She paused, perched atop a chimney like a sentry, as below a black sedan slid to a halt. The windows were darkly tinted, too dark for even her enhanced vision to see through, but it needn’t matter. Her target exited the car fairly quickly, just as she knew he would.

Ladybug dropped into the alley behind the car, landing on the balls of her feet without making a sound. The driver wasn’t paying attention to the shadows behind the car, only focusing on her target as he slipped further into the alley towards the lone door in the side of the abandoned brick building. That only worked in her favor, however, because she swiftly attached the tiny tracking device she was carrying on her person under the edge of the license plate before melting into the shadows once more. The tracking device was another of Max’s designs, undetectable from even some of the best software currently on the market. She wasn’t stupid enough to think this random car might lead her straight to her real target, but it was a start and that was enough for her.

Using the fire escape on the building to her left, Ladybug made her way back to the rooftops where she was at her most comfortable. Here, the world stretched out before her. With her grace and agility, and frankly years and years of doing parkour, she could lose any adversary, any cop by way of rooftop. Limited as they were to the ground, they could never hope to keep up with her. Taking a running leap, the young woman flew across the space between buildings, landing in a roll and coming up easily on her feet once more in one fluid movement. She bounced in place for a moment, shaking out her limbs and loosening her muscles before crossing the roof at a sedate pace. She had already scoped this place out, knew where she would enter and more than one way to exit in case of emergencies. She had agents waiting all over the city to pick her up at whichever location she landed at, should she need to make a speedy getaway. They were prepared for this, had taken into account every possible scenario and outcome and planned ahead accordingly. Speaking of which, she paused at the edge of the roof as a crackle in her ear sounded a moment before her best friend and partner’s voice sounded in her ear.

“Rena Rogue to Lucky Bug. Come in, Lucky Bug,” she said.

“I’m here, Fox. Whatcha got for me?” She responded, pressing a hand to her ear to activate the mic on the com system.

“I’m in position, Boss. You ready to roll some heads?”

“Ready as always, Fox. Stand by for instruction,” Ladybug said, a smile curving her lips. There was a muffled agreement on the other line before silence reigned once more. Adjusting her mask, the young woman pulled back the hood of her cloak and shook out her long, blue-black hair before reaching for the YoYo shaped compact at her hip. She twirled it a few times before tossing it towards a chimney and watching it wrap around the brick once, twice, a third time. An experimental tug assured that the grappling hooks had deployed and dug into the stone, and without further hesitation, she began to lower herself down the side of the building. The building wasn’t incredibly tall; three stories at most. It took Ladybug mere moments to shimmy her way down to the second story window that had been shatter long before she had ever come across it. A quick peek into the room confirmed it’s vacancy and then she was swinging gracefully inside and hitting the control that retracted her grappling hook. The compact was returned to her hip once more, and her hand flew to her ear to give the expected progress report.

“The Lucky Ladybug has landed. I repeat, the Lucky Ladybug has landed,” she murmured before dropping her hand. Immediately Rena’s voice crackled over the com.

“Copy that, LB.”

Now that she was inside, Ladybug took a brief moment to scan her surroundings. The walls were brick, like the outside of the building, but the floor was made up of rotting floorboards that creaked and groaned as she padded carefully across them. She could only hope her target had terrible hearing or thought it was just the old building making the sounds. The door was slightly ajar, hanging at a slight angle because someone had busted one of the hinges. It squeaked in protest when she opened it, but offered no resistance. The hall was as dark as the rest of the building, but her mask easily took care of that she stepped confidently into the pitch black of the hall.

The young woman followed the faint murmur of voices down the hall until she arrived at a creaky old staircase that honestly looked like it would crumble if she put even the slightest amount of weight on it. Luckily, they really had come prepared for _all_ possible scenarios and Max Kante really was brilliant with his electronics. She bent to her knee-high black boots and found the little button on their side, turning on their zero gravity function. Truly, they were fortunate he was on their side. He could just as easily work for a rival family or sell his gadgets to the government but he was a loyal young man. After the Cheng family had saved his best friend’s life, he had sworn his allegiance to them and truly their jobs had only gotten easier because of his phenomenal work.

She floated down the stairs with practiced ease, turning the function off the moment she reached the bottom. The one downside to this particular gadget was its lack of battery life. She didn’t want to risk overusing it, in case she needed it later on in a pinch. Feet firmly on the ground once more, the young woman followed the voices through the maze of halls and rooms until she eventually came to what had to be a lobby or receptionist area at one point. The floor was littered with rubble and broken furniture, floorboards missing altogether in some places, and the large circular desk in the center of the room was caved in at one point as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. There were two men in the center of the room, arguing in low, heated whispered, while four more circled the room with large guns in their hands. Oh yeah, she had definitely hit the jackpot with this group.

“I want double,” the first man was saying to his companion. He was fidgeting nervously and his gaze darted constantly around the room despite the incredibly low visibility.

“That wasn’t the deal,” the second man growled, annoyance evident in his tone. He was much more at ease, confident in the protection his men provided. Really, he ought to have shown up with at least triple the number of men if he wanted even the slightest hope of making it out of this deal alive. There was safety in numbers, after all. Then again, Lucky Ladybug hadn’t gotten her name for no reason. She was quite skilled at defeating seemingly insurmountable odds.

“Maybe not but I’m going against the Cheng family for you,” the first man insisted. “If they catch wind of this, I’m as good as dead, man. Double it, and I can disappear and make a comfortable life for myself somewhere they can’t reach me.”

Ladybug could have laughed outright at his idealism if it wouldn’t have severely compromised her position and the whole operation. There was nowhere on earth that man could hide after double-crossing the Cheng family. He was as good as dead and deep down, he knew it. It was why his eyes kept darting around, his grimy fingernails scraping anxiously against the skin of his forearm. He was scared and anxious. He might not know where she was, but he could sense her presence the way a gazelle senses a lioness right before she pounces. The impending sense of doom was eating him alive.

“Monsieur Agreste will not be pleased about you changing the deal last minute,” the second man warned. The first man tore his gaze away from his surroundings to glare at the second man.

“I don’t care, man. Make it happen or the deal’s off,” he spat, his scratching growing harder as his anxiety levels rose. At this point, he was in Fight or Flight mode. Fortunately for him, he didn’t have a chance to do either before his companion pulled a gun out and blew his brains out the back of his skull. Ladybug arched a brow. In a sense, the man had been merciful. If the Cheng's had gotten ahold of him, his death would have been drawn out for weeks, maybe even months. He would have been made an example of, to ensure people thought twice before crossing the Cheng family again.

The man flipped the safety on and slid the gun back into his waistband before dropping to rummage through the dead man’s pockets in search of whatever they had come to bargain over. That’s when Ladybug made her move. The flash grenade was rolling into the room in an instant, shutters falling over the eyeholes of her mask to protect her eyes from the sudden flash of light and smoke. When the shutters lifted, the room was in chaos as men shouted and fumbled and guns went off aimlessly. She dove into the room, tackling her target before an errant bullet found his skull. His eyes were wide and frightened as they met hers through the mask, recognition flashing immediately. He opened his mouth, no doubt to scream a warning, but she didn’t give him a chance. Fisting her fingers through his long brown hair, she slammed his head back against the floorboards with a solid _thunk_ and watched him immediately drop unconscious.

Not wasting time, Ladybug rolled away from him and came up on one knee, hands sweeping back the folds of her cloak to expose the twin Katanas underneath. The red and gold handles, emblazoned with the Cheng Family Crest, fit perfectly within her gloved grasp. She rose from her position in one fluid movement and lunged towards her first opponent. The battle was over before it ever really began. Her blades sang true, cutting effortlessly through skin and bone like a knife through butter. When the last body hit the floor and the final head rolled (quite literally), she scissored her hands outward to flick blood from the gleaming blades. The twin swords were sheathed quickly and Ladybug finally rose to assess the damage.

A low whistle escaped her as she surveyed the building. Blood spattered the floor and walls as the five bodies lay scattered throughout the room, one with a bullet in his skull and the others with their heads effortlessly detached from their bodies. The police would have a field day with this one, and she could already imagine the headlines. _Lucky Ladybug Strikes Again: Five Found Dead In Abandoned Warehouse_. She smiled at the thought. Ladybug hoisted up the man she had knocked out and hit the button on her earrings that would signal her ride to pick her up. She already knew that the driver would be long gone, no doubt having heard the commotion. That was fine. She would deal with him later. For now, she dragged the man to the door of the warehouse and flagged down the black stretch limo that pulled up before them.

Immediately, the driver slipped out and took the man off her hands, moving around the car to stuff him in the trunk. When they returned to the state, there was a cell with his name on it. The back door opened and a girl poked her head out, wearing a stunning blue and green feathered mask but lacking the full ensemble that Ladybug had on. Her blue eyes shimmered with amusement as the younger girl slid into the car across from her and the door shut behind her. Finally hidden from the outside world, Marinette Dupain-Cheng slipped her mask from her face as the older girl did the same. Identical grins lit near identical features as the cousins beamed at one another.

“Well done, Lucky Ladybug,” the older girl purred teasingly, causing her young cousin's nose to wrinkle playfully.

“All in a day’s work, Bridgette. All in a day’s work,” she responded, finally leaning back into the plush cushions. Her eyes drifted shut, her body relaxing for the first time all evening, and she allowed herself to slip into a much-needed sleep as the limo pulled away from the warehouse district and finally turned towards home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter ;) this is probably what you've all been waiting for since the intro in the first chapter. Here, we get to see aged up Adrien/Chat Noir and you all get to see the full extent of what a childhood of brainwashing did to our poor, sweet kitten. Literally, this chapter is all Adrien. Oh, and Nino, Nathalie, and Hawkmoth are in there too, so there's that... but it's mostly Adrien/Chat xD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support, guys. It really means a lot and there's really nothing better than waking up to your kind comments and generous kudos. I appreciate all of you for taking the time to read my work!
> 
> To the person who had mentioned the sword thing to me, I want to thank you again for suggesting the two swords that would better suit her Chinese heritage. After some debate, I have decided to keep the Katanas as her main weapon. I think they suit her both in size, weight, and aesthetically they go very well with her overall look. But I appreciate the info nonetheless and may use it later for a different character.

_**Before we start the actual story, I figured you guys might be interested in seeing the outfits that inspired their costumes ;) So first up, we have Marinette's Lucky Ladybug costume:[Cloak](https://scontent-sea1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/fr/cp0/e15/q65/38492577_1726893980775297_1633629792156778496_o.jpg?_nc_cat=0&efg=eyJpIjoidCJ9&oh=910c4477295c28730e18763c11d1205b&oe=5C079F2F), [Pants/Gloves](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/2e/2a/28/2e2a280ef2ff5402d67c740fe7c3a311.jpg), [Boots](https://media.dollskill.com/media/roLXHsNP31745Oa6AOfzJy9qafqyw9GJ-34.jpg), [Mask](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/15/86/fb/1586fb948aefbd61c1d8e72a7ab3df44.jpg), [Main Weapons](http://www.heavenlyswords.com/images/T/Divine_Wind_Tachi_Katana_Japanese_Sword_01.jpg), and [Tattoo](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d3/7e/17/d37e17249ee5297f015d469975631996.jpg). Note, her tattoo actually says "Lucky Bug" instead of "Lady" and is located on her left wrist. Next, Adrien's Chat Noir costume. Keeping in mind a few things such as the belt tail is the same as in the show and therefore is not pictured and the gloves have sharp silver claws at the end like in the show and his hoodie DOES have cat ears that stand on their own. He also has the same extendable baton as in the show as his main weapon, so that's not pictured either. [Hoodie](https://d2fzf9bbqh0om5.cloudfront.net/images/543491/original/rebelsmarket_men_detachable_fabric_hooded_leather_jacket_biker_leather_jacket_mens_hoodies_and_sweatshirts_6.jpg?1511411774), [Pants/Boots](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1Xx_wLpXXXXayXVXXq6xXFXXXl/Military-Style-Designer-Skinny-Boot-Cut-Jeans-Men-Zipper-Cargo-Denim-Biker-Jeans-Trousers-For-Men.jpg), [Mask](https://img.etsystatic.com/il/bddee6/1033517388/il_fullxfull.1033517388_82h6.jpg?version=0), and Gloves. If you guys are interested, I will also do full outfits for other characters as they come into play such as Rena Rogue and Bridgette (I'm not telling you her alter ego name yet). Anyway, without further ado, let's get on with the story!** _

~~**____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________** ~~

 

“You got my gear yet?” Adrien asked without preamble as he strolled through the door of the tiny, rundown apartment. To his credit, the man within the apartment didn’t flinch or jump as he once had. He was too used to Chat Noir’s comings and goings at this point. The blonde never knocked, even going so far as to pick the lock if he had to, and oftentimes he didn’t even use the front door. Nino couldn’t count the number of times he had been just relaxing in his apartment, minding his own business, only to have one of his windows shoved open to reveal the black-clad man.

“Hello to you, too, Cat,” the darker skinned man responded dryly. Green eyes met his and a shiver immediately slid down his spine. In all his years working for shady ass people like the Agrestes’, he had never met someone quite like Adrien Agreste. Sure, he put on a good act in the public eye when he was modeling, but even smiling there was always something off about him. His gaze seemed hollow, devoid of anything even closely resembling human emotion. He was like a robot. A really handsome robot, but a robot all the same.

“I didn’t come here to exchange pleasantries, Nino. Do you have my gear or not?” The blonde responded evenly.

“Maybe, maybe not. You got my money?” Nino quipped, rising from the couch slowly and crossing his arms. He had kind of been hoping to get a rise out of the blonde, the slightest flicker of emotion, but his expression didn’t change in the slightest as the envelope of money hit the table between them. Sighing, he gave up and beckoned the blonde to follow him down the hall. The apartment wasn’t very big. It was in a seedy neighborhood in an even seedier part of town, the brick facade faded thanks to the weather. Half the windows in the building were boarded up, and the only reason Nino’s weren’t was that the money he got working for the Agreste family had allowed him to replace his windows with the bulletproof variety. Overall, the apartment wasn’t horrible. Nino could afford a much better place if he chose, but there was anonymity in this backwoods neighborhood on the outskirts of Paris. Here, his neighbors didn’t ask questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.

The hall was short, two doors on the left, one door on the right, and a linen closet at the very end. He went to the second door on the left and began to undo the multitude of locks on the door with the ring of keys he always kept on his person. The first time he had let the youngest Agreste into his workshop had been probably the only time he had ever seen any real change to his usually impassive face. He had arched a brow at the number of locks and Nino swore up and down he had seen the barest hint of a smile, but he couldn’t be positive. So sue him, he was a cautious (*cough*Paranoid*cough*) sort of guy. When the last of the twelve locks was undone and the code on the keypad punched in, he pushed the door open and stepped aside to allow his client to precede him. Adrien entered and Nino followed, shutting the door firmly behind him.

The room did not look like it belonged in a seedy neighborhood, in a rundown apartment building where the carpet was just shy of being considered threadbare and the wallpaper was peeling off the walls and turning an off yellow color. In fact, it looked like something that belonged in a high tech lab. White cabinets with black countertops lined the back wall, the top covered in carefully labeled bins containing tools and half-finished gadgets he was in the process of working on. The wall to the left contained a bank of desk computers, come of the models hanging on the wall above the elongated desk, while several more sat upon the desk, two facing straight ahead in the center and two on either side angled slightly inward so that the user could easily see all the screens without having to move down the desk.

A large island sat in the center of the area and took up a good portion of the room’s free space. The countertop was stainless steel, more carefully labeled cabinets below. The right wall was bare except for a closet and a few monitors that were smaller than any of the computer screens and showed flawless black and white and white images of every room in the tiny apartment from various angles. Yeah, paranoid was probably the right word for it but Nino had learned a long time ago that if you worked for bad people, eventually something bad was bound to happen to you. He very much believed in karma and therefore took careful steps to ensure he didn’t wind up dead or in the hands of some deranged psychopath. Nino headed straight for the closet, undoing at least six more locks before pulling the door open and producing a garment bag and a nondescript black backpack. He carried both over to the island and beckoned Adrien closer.

“Alright, I got made what you asked for but I gotta point out man… you really gotta stop tearing your… erm... uniforms. This one is a bit sturdier than the last few but seriously, they aren’t bulletproof and frankly, they’re a bitch to make. You’re pickier than a girl getting ready for the Senior Prom. Got it?” He asked, tugging the garment bag away when the blonde reached for it.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You got your money so stop complaining,” the man responded drolly, grabbing the garment bag and pulling towards him once more. Nino let it go this time, knowing his warning would probably go unheeded and that he would be making a new outfit within a few months. The man was not nearly as cautious as he ought to be in this field of work. It was like he thought he was immune to death. He fell silent as he watched his blonde client unzip the bag and study the outfit. The jacket was nothing too terribly special. Made of black leather, it had four pockets in the front to contain tools of the trade and a hood with black cat ears that could enhance the wearer’s hearing. The ears were designed to pick up sounds from far away and could be tuned into specific conversations with a small dial located in the wrist of the jacket’s left sleeve. Any sound the ears picked up was heard through a tiny earpiece piped through the hood’s lining.

The pants were form-fitting black skinny jeans. More pockets allowed space for more tools of the trade and the four zippered front pockets added an aesthetically pleasing look to the overall design. The boots were nothing really special. Steel toed combat boots that lace up the front. As per Adrien’s ridiculous request, the steel-toed front of the shoes were designed to look like cat paws and the bottom of the shoes had cat pad looking extensions that actually gave the boots a bit of extra oomph, like what one would imagine walking on the moon to be like. It would allow Chat Noir to leap almost inhuman lengths when bounding across the Parisian rooftops. A black belt wound through the belt loops of the jeans and extended out from the tailbone area into what could only be described as a tail, complete with a steel tip.

Nino was actually really proud of the design on the belt. While it looked like an ordinary belt, it was actually robotic and could move of its own volition. Sensors in the belt took into account the wearers movement and adjust accordingly, allowing for greater balance much like a real cat. A pair of black biker style leather gloves with silver retractable claws and a black domino mask completed the look. The domino mask was basically a mini computer, molding perfectly to the wearer’s face and allowing them night vision, infrared sensors, and it even had a GPS function to allow for quicker getaways. Adrien studied the suit briefly before giving a firm nod. Nino liked to imagine that was the ghost of a genuine smile that fleetingly graced his lips, but knew it was probably just wishful thinking on his part.

“This will work well,” the blonde finally said, packing the ‘uniform’ back into the bag without trying it one. Nino had been making his suits for years, after all. He knew the model’s measurements like the back of his hand. “What else do you have for me?” He reached for the backpack and if it weren’t for the flat expression on his face, Nino might have been reminded of a child in a candy store. Laying a hand on the bag to stop his best client, Nino arched a brow expectantly.

“The money was for the uniform only,” he pointed out. The blonde shot him an annoyed look, green eyes narrowing to slits.

“You know, if anyone else dared defy me, they would no longer be breathing,” he pointed out casually. The man in question just arched a brow.

“Yes, but I’m not just anyone. Much as you hate to admit it, I’m the closest thing you’ll probably ever have to a friend and I am an invaluable asset to your father’s team,” he challenged.

“Nobody is untouchable,” the blonde retorted, stepping closer so that he dwarfed the scrawnier man. It was an intimidation tactic Nino knew well and he stood his ground, golden brown eyes flashing defiantly.

“You’re right. Not even you’re untouchable, Noir,” he pointed out. The pair locked eyes, but it was Adrien who finally broke his gaze away with a grumble of defeat. Another envelope was produced and slapped down on the table, punctuated with a disgruntled glare from the blonde. Grinning broadly, Nino pocketed the cash and silently counted it as a win. If the only real emotions he could get out of the blonde was annoyance and grumpiness, he would take it. For now. Eventually, he planned on evoking a real smile from the blonde but that could wait. Nino wasn’t lying when he said he was the closest thing Chat Noir (or Adrien Agreste for that matter) had to a real friend. The pair had met years ago when they were in their late teens when one of his clients had recommended the Agrestes’ to him for all their gadgetry needs. Nino’s father worked for the CIA before he was jailed for double-crossing his country. He had been a wiz at making high tech gadgetry and weapons and, well, to be frank, Nino was better. He was also better at not getting caught and his regular clients appreciated his discreteness and anonymity.

Releasing the bag, he watched with amusement as the blonde yanked it closer and began digging through the backpack. God, he really was like a kid in a candy store. The blonde dug through the bag, setting aside a small container of bugs and another of tracking devices, shifting through flash grenades and tiny explosives potent enough to level a building if needed, until he came across what he was really looking for. Eyes gleaming with what could almost be described as excitement (albeit slightly flatter and more reserved), Adrien produced a small handheld baton much like his former weapon which had been damaged beyond repair during the blonde’s last job. Somehow, it had been run over and completely crushed.

The weapon was an extendable baton that could be split into two separate batons if needed. It was silver in color, with a neon green paw print that turned into a screen and doubled as a communication device and minicomputer. The baton could extend pretty far when it was in one piece and was sturdy enough to endure a lot of things, such as deflecting bullets, without taking a single scratch. It just wasn’t durable enough to withstand the weight of a full sized semi truck trampling over it. Really, one of these days Nino needed to get the full story on just how that had come to pass. Adrien twirled the baton expertly in one hand, getting a feeling for the weight and feel of the new weapon. It was nearly identical to his previous one but with the added tech, it was slightly heavier. After a moment, he nodded in satisfaction and packed everything back into the bag. He didn’t bother to sort through the rest of what was in the bag. The rest of it was pretty standard gear that Nino stocked him up with whenever he came by. The blonde turned to leave, but paused and glanced over his shoulder when Nino called out to him.

“Um… we still on for movie night on Friday?” He asked, always kind of expecting the blonde to decline the offer as he had for the first few years he’d tried to get him to hang out like a normal human being. But Adrien nodded, his expression never changing, before spinning and leaving as quickly as he had come. A small smile curved Nino’s lips as he locked the closet, flipped off the lights, and then locked the bedroom door back up. Adrien was a difficult guy to understand. He was extremely guarded and didn’t seem to understand basic human emotion. That being said, he was the closest thing Nino had to a real friend too, and that meant something to him. So, as long as Adrien permitted it, he would continue being a sort-of friend to him and hope the blonde eventually loosened up and learned how to properly reciprocate feelings of friendship. And if he didn’t? Well, Nino would stick by him anyway because if nothing else, Adrien was a loyal guy and he did protect those who managed to get close to him. And if protecting people was his way of showing he cared, well he had already saved Nino’s life numerous times over the past few years so that surely had to count for something.

~~~~  


Adrien left the rundown apartment building and crossed the street quickly to where the sleek limo stuck out like a sore thumb among the beaten and battered cars lining either side of the street. He slid inside, setting his new uniform and bag of gadgets on the seat as the car slid smoothly from the curb and started for the Agreste Mansion. It was earlier in the day than he usually got up and leaning back against the plush seats, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. Adrien was notorious for being a night owl. When you were in the business of killing and thieving, you kind of had to be. Such things were best done under the cover of darkness, after all. It was barely noon and he had been up at the crack of dawn, between running through his workout routine and meeting up with Nino. Rumor had it, his father had a new assignment for him tonight.

The blonde closed his eyes, trying hard to make himself relax. Problem was, Adrien lived his life perpetually on the edge so even in the heavily fortified limo with his trusted Bodyguard, Guerilla, in the driver’s seat, relaxation didn’t come easy. His muscles felt far too tense, his forehead pinched in aggravation, and he could _feel_ the beginnings of a headache coming on. Fan-fucking-tastic. At the very least, he knew he could count on there being no Photoshoots or Autograph sessions going on today. His father didn’t like to mix up his business ventures, which meant that on the days he did work for their… underground business… Adrien didn’t have to worry about putting on a show for his fans. If there was one thing he genuinely disliked, it was modeling for the Gabriel Fashion House. But it was what his father wanted, and it did help them keep up appearances in the general public less the media catch wind of their less savory business pursuits.

He never did manage to fully relax, and by the time they pulled up to the circular drive before the Agreste Mansion Adrien was little more than a bundle of nerves. The door opened and the blonde man was out of the car like a shot, bag slung over his shoulder and garment bag clutched so tightly in his hands that his knuckles were turning white. The man took the steps up to the front door three at a time with his ridiculously long stride, yanking the front door and slamming it shut behind him. The sound echoed in the vast foyer of the mansion and he sank back against the solid oak of the door to breath a faint sigh of relief. Home at last. Shaking himself mentally at his silly behavior, the blonde straightened up and opened his eyes… and nearly screeched in surprise when he came face to face with his father’s assistant, Nathalie.

The woman stood a few feet away, dressed impeccably in a pencil skirt, blouse, and jacket combo. Her legs were hidden from view with think black tights, her black heels adding a few inches to her already impressive height although Adrien still stood a few inches taller. Her brown hair was pulled back into a severe bun, the one red streak the only splash of color aside from the pop of her blue eyes from behind wire-framed glasses.  She arched a brow at the strangled noise escaped him but thankfully she didn’t say anything on the matter.

“Adrien, I see you have finally returned home,” she said by way of greeting.

“Yes, Nathalie,” he responded, automatically mirroring her distant tone.

“Is your new _Chat Noir_ outfit to your liking?”

“Yes, Nathalie.”

“Excellent, and your new weapon? Was Monsieur Lahiffe able to make you a new one?” She continued monotonously. If Adrien could have just nodded along, he would have. But he was expected to give a proper answer, and so he did.

“Yes, Nathalie. Everything is exactly how it should be,” he said politely. The woman nodded slowly, her gaze assessing him briefly.

“Your father wishes to see you in the Atrium at nine sharp. Is that going to be a problem?” She asked, finally getting down to business now that their ‘pleasantries’ as she referred to them, were out of the ay. Truly, there was nothing pleasant about talking to Nathalie Sancoeur. She was drier than even Adrien in temperament and was notorious for reporting even the slightest discretion back to his father.

“Not at all, Nathalie. I’ll be there,” he said, purposefully plastering on his ‘model’ smile. It seemed enough to fool Nathalie into thinking all was right in the world because with a sharp nod she bid her goodbyes and turned on her heel, leaving the room. No doubt, she was on her way to terrorize some other poor sap with that creepy blue stare of hers. Adrien watched her go before taking the stairs as possible up and to the left wing, where his bedroom was located. Only when he was behind his closed door did he finally feel the tension drain from his body. Flipping the lock, Adrien entered his room and allowed his eyes rove over the one place he felt completely safe. The room hadn’t changed much since his childhood. It had always been rather barren; even as a kid, he had no need for materialistic objects such as toys and trinkets to entertain himself. Not when his daily routine from the time he was two was categorized as ‘homeschooling’ and ‘training’.

A King sized bed sat on a raised dais in one corner of the room, perfectly made up with a steel gray comforter and white pillowcases. Beside the bed was his computer desk, three monitors taking up the surface of the desk while a larger monitor was set into the wall over his head. The door to his truly massive walk-in closet lay next to this, along with the door to his equally massive ensuite bathroom. Not far from the bathroom door, a spiral staircase led up to a balcony of sorts, where Adrien kept most of his workout equipment. They had a home gym where others who worked for his father’s second business sometimes worked out, but Adrien preferred working out alone, in the sanctity of his room, the radio blaring Yiruma piano music. In the center of the room sat a pristine white sectional, a low black coffee table laying between the couch and the ridiculously large flat screen television that he almost never actually used… except to occasionally play video games. Honestly, he blamed Nino for his newfound obsession for the Ultimate Mecha Strike franchise. Until his sort of friend came along, he had never even touched a video game controller.

The left side of the room contained an intricate rock wall, though after running across rooftops for the last two decades he rarely ever used it anymore. It was too easy at this point. The only other thing in the left side of the room was the shiny black grand piano his father had gotten him when he was five. It was still in perfect condition; when you weren’t allowed many materialistic objects, you took care of what you did have. The back wall behind the television was wall to ceiling windows and the only way to open them was with a tiny remote he kept on the coffee table. Adrien briefly considered playing a round of video games to truly relax before ultimately dismissing the idea. He was tired, and depending on the assignment he was being given come nightfall, he could very well be up all night. So instead he walked into the closet to hang up the garment bag and stash the backpack of goodies in the safe hidden behind the faux wall panel, before stripping down to his boxers and heading to bed. He flopped face first onto the comfortable mattress, not even bothering to crawl under the blankets before he was fast asleep.

~~~~  
  


The outfit fits like a glove, as he had known it would when he had first inspected it. Nino truly was masterful with his work and Adrien was almost tempted to suggest his father hire him for their public business as well. Truly, the stitching on the jacket could have rivaled even the best designer on his father’s team at Gabriel. The jacket clung to his broad, well-muscled chest, the jeans hugged and accentuated his perfect figure, and the shoes were surprisingly comfortable. The feline additions were a nice touch, easy to use and useful to whatever mission he was being sent on. As the mask slid over his face, Adrien Agreste disappeared and Chat Noir took his place. He moved like a cat stalking its prey; part of the reason he had earned the title _Le chat noir de Paris_ , or _the black cat of Paris_. It’s what he derived his name from, and he took great pleasure in dressing the part of the mysterious black cat.

Using the remote that controlled his windows, he opened one of the upper centermost windows before tossing the remote towards his couch. It landed with a quiet _thump_ and he bounced lightly in his shoes, testing their springiness, before leaping agilely up onto the sill of the window. A small smile curved his lips before he pushed it away. Nino truly had outdone himself, but that was no reason to forget his place. True, being Chat Noir allowed the man to be freer than being Adrien Agreste was, but at the end of the day, he was little more than a tool in his father’s trade. A carefully designed and molded killing machine. Emotion, as his father had taught him long ago, had no place in his life. Shaking himself mentally, the blonde activated the retractable claws in his gloves and they slid out seamlessly, glinting in the light of the full moon. Digging them into the stone facade of the Agreste Mansion, Chat Noir began to climb.

The man moved much like his namesake, all sleek muscle beneath his black suit. He scaled the building quickly, reaching the roof in record time, and leaped gracefully from spire to spire, dome to dome until he reached the Atrium window at the back of the Mansion. The center of the butterfly emblem was open, just enough for him to slip inside, which he didn’t hesitate to do. He hit the floor with a soft thud and paused to look around. The atrium was a massive circular room, so dark that the moonlight barely penetrated the pitch blackness. It felt suffocating in here, surrounded by inky darkness. Chat Noir straightened up, green eyes narrowed, and was just about to activate his night vision when something moved to his left.

The man whirled instinctively, grabbing and extending his baton to fit comfortably in both hands just as the cane came flying down, seemingly out of nowhere. The clang of metal on metal as the two weapons connected was thunderous in the vast, empty room. Somewhere above, a small light flickered on and it was just enough to illuminate the darkness so that Chat wasn’t completely blind. His father stared down at him, something akin to approval in his pale blue eyes as he backed off and dropped the end of his cane back to the floor.

“Very good, son. I see you haven’t been slipping on your training,” Hawkmoth said evenly, clicking a button on a remote to close the tinted windows before bringing the lights on fully. Chat had to squint against the sudden brightness until his eyes adjusted.

“Of course not, father,” he said, shrinking and returning the baton to the clip above his ‘tail’ before standing at attention.

“Good. That’s very good. You’ll need all of your training to take out your next target,” Hawkmoth mused, producing a folder seemingly out of thin air. He handed it to the black-clad assassin, who didn’t hesitate to flip it open and study the first page which contained all the basic, need-to-know info on his next hit. His eyebrow inched up as he read the information presented before him.

“Marinette Couffaine-Cheng? Of the Cheng Family Cheng's?” He asked inquisitively, glancing up at his father for confirmation before returning to the folder before him.

“That is correct,” Hawkmoth agreed. Chat Noir nodded and scanned the rest of the information, ignoring the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that said he ought to recognize that name. The snapshot clipped to the upper left corner of the folder was on a woman who couldn’t have been much younger than he was. Her midnight hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, her blue eyes shining as she grinned at the camera. Folded in her arms, cheeks pressed together and with an equally large smile was a little girl who almost looked identical to the woman, despite the age difference. Her eyes were slightly off, more of an ocean blue than her mother’s bluebell gaze, but the similarities were almost uncanny. Chat quickly scanned the information listed below the image. Marinette Couffaine-Cheng was twenty-six years old, born November 27th of 1991. She would be having a birthday in a few weeks, then.

He continued reading the information. Orphaned at the age of four in what was ruled a double homicide (again, _why_ did that sound so familiar??) and taken in by her Aunt and Uncle, Sybil and Fan Cheng and raised with her nearly identical cousin, Bridgette. Graduated high school at eighteen, some college but no degree, married her high school sweetheart, Luka Couffaine, at nineteen and gave birth to their daughter, Emma Couffaine-Cheng, in January of 2014. Recently divorced, she lives in Venice, Italy at the Cheng Family Estate and runs _La Coccinella_ Boutique, one of the most famous fashion boutiques in Italy. Chat Noir frowned inquisitively up at his father, unable to fathom why this seemingly ordinary woman would have a hit out on her. Was her death worth a lot of money? Was the ex-husband after custody? Did his father see her as a threat to his more legit business?

“Can I ask why she’s being targeted?” He finally forced himself to ask, a bit apprehensively. His father was well-known for his temper and he did _not_ like it when people questioned his motives. Today, however, he didn’t seem very bothered because he answered without so much as a frown of disapproval.

“Have you heard of the Lucky Ladybug, Adrien?” He asked, and Chat found his brow creasing in confusion at the seemingly random question.

“Of course, father. She is the Cheng’s most lethal assassin,” he agreed. His father nodded in approval and Chat allowed himself the slightest bubble of pride.

“Correct. It just so happens that the Lucky Ladybug has been searching for me. She wants my head mounted on her wall and quite honestly, I don’t fancy meeting the business end of her sword,” he explained, reaching out to tap the picture of the grinning woman. “This is the identity of their lucky little bug, I’m sure of it. She has reason enough to want me dead. I want you to kill her before she can even set foot on Parisian soil.”

Chat Noir stared dubiously at the woman in the picture before glancing up at his father. His gaze flicked down once more. The smiling woman hardly seemed like a trained assassin, but ultimately Adrien trusted his father’s judgment. He knew what he was doing. “The child. What do I do about her child?” He asked after what seemed like an eternity of silence. His father’s face stretched into a dark grin, blue eyes flashing beneath the gray of his face mask.

“If you can, bring the child to me, Adrien. She will make a fine asset to our team and who knows? We might finally find a worthy partner for you in her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think! Next chapter we will swing back over to Italy to take a glimpse into the day to day life of Marinette and her daughter!

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think!


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